


I know what you are, I am not afraid

by Sherlockspeople



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Anal Play, Biting, If I missed one I am sorry, John get's what he wants, M/M, Sherlock gets a taste, Vampire Sherlock, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-06
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-02-12 01:12:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2090118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlockspeople/pseuds/Sherlockspeople
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a trying case john figures out what Sherlock is. He also finds out what Sherlock really thinks of himself.</p>
<p>This is my first post ever. Not confident. Please be kind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I know what you are, I am not afraid

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so, this is the first time I am posting a fic. I am not confident in my work even though I've been writing novels for the last several years. Never had the nerve to publish anything and I am just putting this out there to see what happens. Please be gentle.
> 
> Also, I do not own any of the characters, accept the random monster that has no name or real character description so, yeah. 
> 
> Enjoy

Sherlock stood in the doorway watching his best friend sleep. John had retired early after a trying case and of course, Sherlock couldn't sleep. He listened to John's soft breaths and heard his heart beating steadily in his chest.  
He chuckled to himself quietly, he reminded himself that he'd not had anything to eat in a few days. With a sigh he ventured away from the door.  
“Sherlock?” the groggy voice came from behind him.  
“Yes John?” Sherlock looked back into the room. He could see his friend rubbing at his eyes, sitting up slowly.  
“You okay?” John cleared his throat several times before tossing his legs over the side of the bed. Sherlock noted the scratches on his flatmates muscular legs.  
“Just having trouble winding down. I apologize for waking you.”  
“Yeah, 'sokay.” John stumbled to his feet and held onto the door frame. “Long as your okay.”  
“Yes of course.” Sherlock stepped to the side as John stumbled to the bathroom.  
With a sigh he ventured down stairs to his own bedroom. A small fridge hid in the corner, he pulled out a plasma bag with red liquid and closed the fridge door. He sat on the edge of his bed and listened as John went from the bathroom back to his room and fell on his bed.  
Sherlock looked down at the packet in his hand. Oh he wished it wasn't like this. He had been changed so many years ago, in a gutter, full of cocaine, his life was nothing. He'd been wanting to die, he'd wish it since his earliest memories.  
However that wasn't the case. Some creature, some stranger had decided he was worth saving, he was worth it to the world to have live. Forever.  
With a sigh he pushed the memory into it's closet in his mind palace and fed on the bag of red liquid. His face flushed and his vanes became fire as he finished the bag and tossed it into his trash bin. Mrs. Hudson never questioned, “It's from an experiment no doubt.” she would always say.  
Sherlock rolled onto his back and watched his ceiling. He could hear John tossing on his bed, another nightmare no doubt. Though he didn't blame the soldier, the creature they'd been chasing for this case hadn't been of the normal killer variety. It'd been a long case, three weeks and it came to a violent head with John being injured before Sherlock could contain the creature.  
It was the first time John had noticed things about him, things that Sherlock tried to keep hidden. His strength, his ability to overcome injury and the way his eyes changed to light golden colour when he was angry.  
They'd not talked about it, though it was in the forefront of Sherlock's mind now. He knew that John was going to have questions when they were sitting together and relaxing.  
With that in his thoughts he knew there was no way he was going to sleep. Sitting up on his bed he climbed over a pile of papers and dug out his violin from it's case on his overly cluttered dresser.

John didn't know what time he'd woken up the first time. He blinked a few times and dug out his phone looking at the time.  
“Five in the morning? Really Sherlock.” He protested as he climbed from bed again and slipped some socks on his feet. He headed down the stairs, forgetting about his sore leg he nearly tumbled down the stairs, and stormed through the kitchen. He stopped at the door and looked back to find that there was a steaming tea sitting on the counter.  
“Sherlock?” John called down the hall. He was surprised that the violin music came to an abrupt stop, usually Sherlock didn't respond until he was finished his piece.  
The tall figure appeared in his bedroom door.  
“It's five in the morning, do you have to play that thing now?” John limped back to a chair and leaned on it's back.  
“As I stated three hours ago, I am unable to sleep. It is to quiet in the flat and I needed a distraction.” Sherlock walked down the hall with his violin still in hand. “I made you a tea.”  
“I see that, thank you. I would have preferred you let me sleep but, thanks.” John smiled. He limped to the counter and took a sip. The warm fluid coated his dry throat and he let out an audible moan of pleasure.  
“As you like it.” Sherlock said from behind him.  
“What's got you not able to sleep anyway? I thought that after that case you'd be exhausted.” John sat at the table and held his tea in his hands.  
“I am concerned.” Sherlock placed his violin on the table and sat across from his friend.  
“Oh yeah, want to share?”  
Sherlock frowned across the table.  
“Okay yeah, I know what your worried about. Those things that happened last night, the stuff that I was mumbling about while the doctor was checking my leg at the hospital.” John sat back in his chair.  
Sherlock plucked at his violin with a finger.  
John reached across the table and stopped him, his hand falling on Sherlock's gently. John watched Sherlock closely trying to think of how to start this conversation.  
Sherlock starred at John's hand. It was warm and surprisingly soft for a man who'd spent time in the military. He was still well tanned, his natural colour but still, a great deal darker then Sherlock's own pale fingers.  
“When I retired last night I went on my computer, by the way you left up a few web pages last time you broke in.” John smiled. Sherlock looked up, not smiling. “Anyway, I took what I'd seen and plugged it into the search engine.”  
Sherlock pulled his hand away and was on his feet. He felt trapped, he didn't want to have this conversation, not with John. He started to pace.  
John watched him for about a minutes before standing and blocking his way. The two crashed together and Sherlock's arms shot out to catch John before he fell over.  
“I know what you are.” John said softly his hands gripping Sherlock's arms.  
“And that means what exactly?” Sherlock swallowed hard, he was afraid, and he didn't like it at all.  
“Think about it, if I know what you are and I still managed to fall asleep up stairs, and asked if you were all right when you were in the doorway staring at me.” John's hands ran up Sherlock's arms.  
Sherlock frowned.  
“It mean's I am not afraid of you.” John shook his head.  
“How? How can you not be afraid of me?” Sherlock started to step away but John held on to him tightly.  
“Because you are my best friend. Because you saved me from that thing last night, you could have let it kill me then taken it out, it would have been exhausted and it would have been easier on you.” John touched his face softly. “Instead you took that thing down. Don't think I didn't hear what you said when you went for it.”  
“I said something?” Sherlock frowned and ran the entire event through his head.  
“It believe you said, 'Not my John.'” John smiled.  
Sherlock's eyes went wide, he thought he'd said that in his head. His face flushed a little pink and he swallowed again.  
“Something is bothering me though.” John traced a finger along Sherlock's jaw and watched as the shade of pink got brighter.  
“What is that?” Sherlock had stopped trying to get away, he was now trying very hard to focus on John's words and not his touch.  
“You were so cold last night, now you're warm to the touch.” John's finger traced down Sherlock's neck to the start of his night shirt.  
“I have quenched my thirst.” Sherlock looked down at the floor, he felt like a monster. Looking back up he watched John's tongue trace his lips and a ping of something warm started in his stomach.  
John brushed a curl from Sherlock's face.  
“Stop.” Sherlock took his hand and stepped away. “You don't know what you are doing.”  
“What?” John frowned and tried to step forward but Sherlock's hand was against his chest.  
“It is an effect that my kind have on human's.” Sherlock had gotten so caught up in John and how understanding he was and how nice it felt to have his friend show he cared that he'd forgotten about what was really happening.  
“Really? I don't feel like I'm being effected by anything.” John looked at the hand on his chest. “You're talking about a chemical that you release to draw human's to you so you can feed. Yeah I read about that.” John brushed Sherlock's arm away and stepped forward.  
“Please John don't.” Sherlock protested.  
“If you're thinking that you are drawing me in then you've got another thing coming.” John inched closer. “I have had these feelings for the last year.”  
“You? You have?” Sherlock frowned.  
“I've never said anything because you are married to your work and, well, I needed to figure you out.” John blushed.  
Sherlock looked from John to the floor then back again, his mind was racing and he couldn't catch up. Suddenly he turned, leaving his violin on the table and marched back to his room slamming the door behind him.  
He paced back and forth. How could he let this happen, John couldn't have feelings for him, he was a monster. How could such a good man have feelings for, for something like him?  
“Sherlock.” John knocked on the door softly.  
He froze and looked at the door. No, he couldn't let this happen, not to the greatest man he'd ever met.  
“Sherlock let me in please.” John said though the hard wood door.  
“You can't feel this way about me John.” Sherlock protested pressing his hand against the door. He could hear John's heart pounding.  
“Why? Sherlock why are you being like this? I thought you'd like the idea of having someone care about you. I care about you.” John pressed his forehead against the door.  
“I am not someone you can have any kind of relationship with John. I am a monster, I feed on the blood of humans.” Sherlock felt his chest pinch.  
“I don't care Sherlock.” John pounded his fist against the door. “And you are not a monster, you have never attacked anyone that doesn't deserve it. You've never fed on anyone that I know of and that makes you not a monster.”  
Sherlock closed his eyes with his forehead resting against the door. John was not making this easy for him. He could not start a relationship with his best friend, even though he loved his soldier.  
“Sherlock, please. Can we talk about this without the damn door between us?” John sighed and turned to lean against the door.  
Sherlock swallowed several times. He knew that if he opened the door it would be the end of the conversation, he would not be able to stop himself. On the other hand, if he left the door closed he would lose everything. He would go back to wishing he was dead.  
John was the reason for him not having found a way of ending his life.  
With a tight chest and a shaking hand Sherlock slowly opened the door.  
“Thank you.” John stepped into the bedroom before Sherlock could step out. He sat on the bed and looked up at his flatmate.  
Sherlock slowly made his way to sit beside John on the bed. He kept his eyes down on his hands as he pulled at his shirt and picked at invisible lint.  
“Okay.” John turned to face him. “I can't say I understand a great deal of what is going on with you. I can only speak for myself and I can't help how I feel. I know, you think your some kind of creature that doesn't deserve to be loved but damn it Sherlock, I've known you for two years and you've never once shown any signs of being evil.”  
Sherlock stopped picking at his shirt but didn't look up.  
They sat quietly. John trying to think of something else to say while Sherlock listened to the soft sound of John's heart.  
“John I...”  
“You better be saying something I want to hear.” John said sternly. Sherlock looked over a frowned. “I don't want to hear, I'm a monster or whatever.”  
“I was going to say, I have cared for you since you came into this flat. I told you that I was married to my work in hopes you would find someone to be happy with, because you can not be happy with me.”  
“How the hell do you know that? Okay so, you know everything but how do you know I can't be happy with you?”  
“Because eventually people will notice that I do not age and you will grow old. I will stay young and you will not. I will have to leave and...” Sherlock took a deep breath to continue but wasn't able to.  
John took a chance. As Sherlock stopped talking he lunged and pressed their lips together. At first he felt the push of Sherlock's hand on his chest trying to separate them then, the fight slowly disappeared.  
When they separated John kept himself close, his hand on the back of Sherlock's head, tangled fingers in his curls. John's eyes searching the other face for anything, a sign if he had been right or if he was going to be heartbroken.  
Sherlock swallowed several times before opening his eyes and looked at John.  
“John.” Sherlock voice shook.  
“If you leave I will leave with you. I might grow old but then, we might never age together.”  
“No.” Sherlock stood. “You don't ever want to be this.”  
“If it means I can be with you then I'll take it.” John stood with him. “Please Sherlock.”  
“You are a great man John, you are brave and strong. You care about what you do, that is what makes you a great man. You can not be this.” Sherlock waved a hand at himself.  
“Don't you ever, ever think you can tell me what I want and don't want.” John was getting angry now. “You have no right to tell me what I want. I know what I want.” He shoved against Sherlock's chest. “I have suffered for a year having feelings for you, thinking that you wanted nothing to do with me. Thinking that if I tried hard enough that you might just notice, something. Anything.”  
Sherlock's chest tightened again. John went to push him again, this time Sherlock took his arms and wouldn't let go.  
“You are a beautiful and wondrous creature that I will never stop loving. No matter what you say, no matter how much you make me hate you I will never stop loving you.” John started to cry.  
Sherlock was shocked. The tears on John's face made his heart break. Was this really happening? Was John really so smitten by him that it would bring him to tears.  
The room went quiet. Sherlock held John's arms while the soldier sobbed his frustrations out, he tried to pull away but was still tightly gripped.  
“I will never believe that you are anything but what I know you are. I will never believe that you are a monster.” John was finally able to get his arms back. He wiped his face with the back of his hand and took a few deep breaths to steady himself.  
He turned and headed out of the bedroom to the kitchen. Sherlock stood there in the dark and silence staring at the space that John had been standing.  
“I love you.” Sherlock said quietly and closed his eyes.  
John sat at the table sipping his latest tea. He watched down the hall at the open door of the bedroom, unable to see inside. He was so angry, and hurt. With a sigh he stood and went to the sitting room, there was no point on dwelling on any of it. He thought about maybe packing his things and finding someplace else to live.  
It was destroy him to leave but he couldn't handle living with Sherlock if it was going to be like this. He was sitting quietly looking at the empty fireplace when heard a frantic scampering across the floor. Turning he found a large creature standing in their sitting room.  
He jumped to his feet as a claw came down across the chair tearing the stuffing out of it.  
“What the hell?” He yelled as he jumped away from a second claw coming at him.  
“John?” Sherlock rushed out of the kitchen.  
“Sherlock watch it.” John reached out to warn his friend.  
Sherlock reacted quickly, his senses telling him to move before the creature was able to get a swing in. He lunged toward the coffee table rolling out of the way of the giant bear sized hand that came at his head.  
“Sherlock?” John yelled and the creature turned on him.  
Sherlock snarled and lunged. His arms wrapped around the creatures neck but it was to large for him to get a good grip.  
“Run John.” Sherlock yelled just before he was launched from the creatures back and slammed into the dining table.  
John got his feet under him and ran toward the kitchen. Once into the other room he cut through the door and ran to his room getting his gun. He heard the crashing and a loud howl come from the main floor.  
Making sure his weapon was loaded and ready John rushed back down the stairs and stopped at the door.  
“Sherlock?” John looked around the room. The creature was still standing but he didn't see Sherlock anywhere. “Sherlock?” John nearly screamed.  
“Get out John.” Sherlock yelled from the other side of the room.  
“I have my gun do I shoot it?” John had not experienced anything like this. He'd never seen anything like this before.  
“Yes.” Sherlock said trying to avoid a large hand. He was a second to late and the creature's sharp nails slashed across his chest sending him into the hearth of the fireplace.  
John fired three shots into the large back, then two more as the creature turned to face him. Past the creature laying out on the floor John saw Sherlock leaning against the fireplace. He wasn't moving and he was bleeding heavily.  
“Sherlock.” John yelled before firing a couple more shots. The creature finally buckled but it didn't stop. “Sherlock?” John ran into the kitchen.  
Sherlock stirred. He blinked a few times and focused on the chair that was in front of him.  
“Sherlock!” John screamed. Sherlock jumped, John screamed. His chest was screaming at him and so was his head. He climbed to his feet using the chair as support.  
“Damn it.” Sherlock stumbled trying to get his feet under him. “John?”  
“Stupid thing wont go down.”  
Sherlock straightened and looked past the creature at John. Their eyes locked and he saw the fear, he hated seeing John afraid. Sherlock growled, his breathing became laboured.  
“Not my John.” He snarled before rushing the creature.  
John fell back on to the kitchen floor as he saw Sherlock grab the creature by the neck, he watched as blood started to flow down it's chest and before it had a chance to do anything more it fell to the floor with a thump.  
John didn't want to move, for fear that the creature would hear him. Gripping his gun tight he got to his feet.  
“Sherlock?” His voice was shaking as he spoke.  
Sherlock hid his face as he scampered off the creature and away from John's eyes. He rushed into the sitting room and tucked himself into one of the corners, he covered his face in his hands and shook.  
John poked the creature until he was satisfied the thing was dead. Tucking his gun into his belt he slowly entered the sitting room and searched for his flatmate.  
“Sherlock don't hide.” He walked over and knelt on the floor. “Don't hide from me.”  
“No.” Sherlock pulled away when he felt John's hand on his arm.  
“It's okay.” John didn't pull back. He kept his hand on Sherlock's arm while his other slowly reached touched the other man's face.  
Sherlock let the soft hand move his face to look at John. His eyes were a golden colour as his creature's side came out. His mouth had touches of blood over them and his teeth had just reseeded.  
“How are we going to explain a giant thing to Mrs. Hudson.” John brushed his thumb across Sherlock's lips wiping some blood from them.  
“An experiment?” Sherlock mused while his mind tried to figure out what was happening. John was not afraid. He was tending to him. He was worried about him.  
“She'd probably believe that.” John finished cleaning Sherlock's face and checked his chest. “Your chest.”  
“It will heal.” Sherlock reached out and touched John's face. “You were hurt.”  
“Just a cut, nothing to serious.” John took his hand and kissed his knuckles.  
“I will contact Mycroft and have the body removed.”  
“Let's get you up.” John helped Sherlock to his feet, holding him up as he swayed.  
“I will be fine in a few hours.” Sherlock leaned against the chair for support freeing John.  
“Will you need to, you know. Feed or whatever?” John separated the tare's on Sherlock's shirt and watched as the skin started to heal.  
“I may need a touch up.” Sherlock licked his lips as he watched John.  
“When was the last time you, um, fed on a person?” John looked up into the golden eyes, he shivered.  
“I don't want to hurt you.” Sherlock said as he moved way from John and headed past the body to his room.  
“I know you don't.” John followed. He walked in and stopped as he watched Sherlock dig into a fridge that he'd never seen before.  
Sherlock sat on the side of the bed and looked up at John.  
“Is that?” John reached out and took the plasma bag.  
“It takes the edge off. I have not fed on a human in over a century. I find this way a lot less invasive but not as satisfying.”  
John looked from the bag to Sherlock. He tossed the bag to the floor and straddled the other man's lap.  
“John?” Sherlock shook his head but it became difficult as his lips were captured. John's moan nearly drowned out the sound of his pounding heart against his chest.  
“I can't.” Sherlock said through a whimper.  
“Yes you can. You wont hurt me.” John pulled his jumper and his t-shirt over his head revealing bruises from the past case and his soft and pulsing neck.  
Sherlock felt his desire. Leaning forward he licked and tasted John's neck, he felt the pulsing against his tongue. He kissed the pulse spot and nuzzled taking in his soldier's sent.  
John's hips started to grind. He moaned and tipped his head back as he felt the warm breath of the man he loved.  
Sherlock stood with ease holding John against him as he turned and lay his soldier on the bed.  
“I will take what I need but first, I will give you what you desire.” Sherlock whispered into John's ear before kissing his lips gently.  
For the first time in his life John relented all control. He lay his head back against the pillow and closed his eyes.  
Sherlock kissed and licked every piece of bare skin relishing in the jerks and squirms of his soldier. At John's belly and traced the hard abs with his tongue while his fingers hooked under the elastic of the sleep pants and slowly worked their way down.  
The head of John's erection appeared and Sherlock gave it a soft lick. John jumped and gasped with a slight arch of his back.  
Sherlock worked his sleep pants off then traced kisses back up the inside of his leg, missing the scratches from the old case, and to his thigh.  
John's legs spread.  
Nuzzling the base of his soldiers erection Sherlock teased and kissed the sensitive skin until John bucked in protest. With a smile Sherlock took the entire length into his mouth while pinning the soft white hips to the bed with his hands.  
He a slow pace while John fought to move his lower half. His head thrashed against pillow while his hands gripped and released the dark curls around his privates. He moaned and gasped as he felt the burning in his stomach spread through his entire body.  
Sherlock stopped his assault and worked his way back up to where his lips were attacked with a crash, he felt a slight swelling on one side where their teeth came together against his bottom lip.  
He dug into his side table and found a bottle of lubrication. With a smile and a soft kiss he moved back to his place between John's thighs.  
Sherlock lubricated two of his fingers and placed the bottle to the side. He wouldn't need it more tonight, perhaps tomorrow but not tonight. With a quick glance toward John's eyes he slowly pushed his long finger into John.  
His legs moved without his permission. John tensed as he felt the pressure inside him, he gave a loud groan and forced himself to relax. After a few moments the pressure was gone and he felt the thing digit moving in and out with a twist.  
Sherlock was gentle and slow but he could tell that John was about at the brink. He kissed and licked the inner thigh closest to him and as he inserted his second finger he bit down on the soft plump skin.  
John gasped then screamed as he came. His fluids exploding onto his stomach, his body shaking with uncontrolled pleasure. He gripped the blanket with both hands and gritted his teeth as his orgasm continued. He finally collapsed, breathless and shaking.  
Sherlock licked his bite mark, it would bruise but heal. He slipped his fingers out of the now very tight and wet entrance and gave them a quick wipe on the sheets before climbing up the bed to wrap his arms around his soldier.  
“How the hell...did you...just.” John shook his head as he caught his breath.  
“I wanted you to experience pleasure while I fed.” Sherlock held him tight stroking his short blond hair.  
John got sleepy really fast, he nestled into Sherlock's arms and held him around the waist.  
“I didn't even get to see you naked.” John protested as he realized that the other man was still fully clothes.  
Sherlock kissed the top of his head and situated the blankets over them.  
“As I said John, I will take what I need but I will give you what you desire, all that you desire.”  
John sighed, closed his eyes and let the feeling of his heart lull him to sleep.  
Sherlock watched his soldier slowly drift. He gave a final kiss to the blond short hair and closed his eyes, he could feel the pull of sleep calling to him. Knowing that John loved him, that he wanted to be with Sherlock, it gave him a new hope. He didn't mind being alive, for now.

**Author's Note:**

> So if you liked, please comment. if you found anything you thought was bad (like grammar and such because I am horrible at it) please let me know.
> 
> If all goes well I might decide to post again, not sure though. 
> 
> Again thank you.


End file.
